Oysters! Yeah! Or Oysters! Yuck! So which are you? There are few foods that inspire such a passionately unequivocal response, on both sides. Oysters are the gourmet's Marmite. Some worship, while others revile. Woody Allen, for example, has very clear opinions on the bivalve: "I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead - not sick, not wounded - dead."

How wrong Allen is: eating oysters alive is the whole point. No seafood can be fresher. Or, to me, more enticing: their frilly, fleshy, glistening plumpness displayed so perfectly on their pearly shell. Nothing cries, "Eat me!" louder.

Then, wonder of wonders, they turn out to be even better to devour than to behold. The first splash of cold brine on the tongue creates a thirsty hunger that is wholly sated by the sweet, creamy, seaweedy, buttery, minerally flesh. A couple of chews search out all the complexities of texture and flavour - an ocean of pleasures. Finally comes one of the most pleasing swallows of any food I know, as the masticated creature plunges willingly down the gullet. And then I reach for another one.

But I realise, if you've already decided you don't like oysters, that my purple prose, far from persuading you, is merely driving a wedge deeper and farther between you and this esteemed mollusc.

So, is it ever possible to wean oysterphobes on to the object of their revulsion? To get them to overcome their fears, and learn to love what they have rejected by apparently primal instinct. I know it is, because I have done it. Not just once, but repeatedly. Woody, just give me one shot ...

As with most campaigns, you need more than one tactic up your sleeve. The first is just plain coaxing. The fact is, most people who say they don't like oysters have never actually tried one. I've been present at the "first" oyster of a number of friends and family, of all ages. And, nine times out of 10, a lifelong enthusiasm ensues. You just have to get them through a barrier that is, of course, purely psychological.

Naturally, you must choose your words of encouragement according to your relationship with the targeted convertee. "Don't be such a pussy!" may be all you need to say to your best mate. Greater subtlety, ideally incorporating flattery, is required with lovers and partners: "I just think you'd get so much pleasure from them once you got the hang of them. And watching you eat and enjoy them would be very sexy ..." That kind of stuff.

One very useful tactic is the deployment of the cooked oyster. If you can establish that your target already likes cooked mussels, you can hardly fail. And once you have delighted them with a few variations on the cooked oyster theme, you just have to start dropping hints about the real pleasure being in the raw.

Purists will tell you that the only way to eat an oyster is live, raw, with just a few drops of lemon juice. That's nonsense. I like to explore the pleasing contrasts of oysters, hot and cold, with all kinds of condiments and companions. This week's recipes rattle through my favourite ways of ringing the changes.

Things to go with raw oysters ...

There's no getting around it, shucking oysters can be tricky - you can even buy chainmail gloves for the purpose. For those of a less medieval bent, an oyster knife with a guard on it and a carefully folded tea towel will do the job. Here's how. Hold the oyster firmly on the table, the flatter side facing upwards, and protect your non-knife-wielding hand with the folded tea towel. Now work the knife into the hinge and twist, prise and lever it open, trying not to lose any of the juices.

Of course, devour your shucked oyster with Tabasco, or a squeeze of lemon and thin slices of buttered rye bread, but why not try:

• Mignonette, the classic sauce of finely chopped shallots macerated for half an hour or so in some good red-wine vinegar. In spring, substitute some finely grated radish in place of the shallot.

• Grate a little horseradish into a few tablespoons of sour cream and chill for an hour or so. Stir in some finely chopped parsley before dotting over the raw oysters.

• The Romans used a tasty combination of egg yolk, olive oil, wine, lovage, black pepper and something called liquamen, a fishy sauce for which you could substitute nam pla.

Things to go with cooked oysters

For all of the following suggestions, simply flash the opened, dressed oysters under a fiercely hot grill for a couple of minutes.

• Cream butter with finely chopped shallots and chervil or tarragon. Smear over the opened oysters, then sprinkle on some breadcrumbs.

• Trickle a tablespoon of cream over the opened oysters, sprinkle over a little black pepper, parmesan and a trickle of melted butter.

• Stir together some breadcrumbs, grated gruyère and finely chopped parsley. Sprinkle on top of the oysters.

Oysters with chorizo

Fiery chorizo forms a very happy marriage with creamy, salty, garlicky oysters and - an added bonus - this dramatic and luxurious starter takes just a few minutes to put together. Serves six as a starter.

Oyster fritters with chilli dipping sauce

Earlier in the year, we made this with comfrey leaves and liked it so much that we've tried it with other leafy greens. Chard works really well here, as does spinach, even the thin inner leaves of cabbage. The sauce is lovely with raw oysters, too, especially if you add a little lime juice and zest once it has cooled down.

12 large oystersChard leaves, blanched and refreshed under cold water500ml-1 litre groundnut or sunflower oil (the amount you need will depend on the size of your pan)200g plain flour½ tsp salt300ml ice-cold sparkling water

First make the sauce. Put all the ingredients into a small pan, place over a low heat and stir until the sugar dissolves. Raise the heat and simmer until reduced and syrupy, about five minutes. Pour into a small bowl and set aside.

Pour a scant centimetre of water into a large, lidded saucepan and place over a high heat. Put the oysters in the pan, pop on the lid and bring to a boil. Cook for a couple of minutes, until the oysters just start to open. Remove the oysters from their shells and wrap each one in a ribbon of chard about 2cm wide by about 10cm long. Secure with a cocktail stick.

Heat the oil in a deep, heavy-based pan until the thermometer reads 180C (or until a cube of white bread turns golden in about a minute). While the oil heats up, make the batter. In a bowl, whisk the flour and salt, then whisk in the water until you have a batter the consistency of single cream.

Dip the oysters into the batter and deep-fry for 45-60 seconds, until golden. Drain on kitchen paper and serve immediately with the dipping sauce on the side.